


Double dare

by Nival_Vixen



Series: Word of the day [27]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adorable Isaac, Alive Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes, Alternate Hale Fire, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Allison Argent, Alternate Universe - No Scott McCall, Awesome Boyd, Complete, Erica Reyes & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, F/M, Isaac Lahey & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Jackson Has Issues, Jackson Never Left, M/M, Sarcastic Stiles, Sassy Derek, Stiles-centric, Werewolf Derek, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, Wolf Derek, Wolf Pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 12:03:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2546801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nival_Vixen/pseuds/Nival_Vixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite refusing Jackson's dare, Stiles finds himself outside of the old Hale house anyway. He meets a red-eyed werewolf who wants to get out of Beacon Hills just as much as he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double dare

**Author's Note:**

> Cryptesthesia, noun. Psychology. allegedly paranormal perception, as clairvoyance or clairaudience.
> 
> ...
> 
> AU - The McCalls never came to Beacon Hills, and after the Hale fire, the Argents never returned to Beacon Hills.

Stiles isn't ashamed to admit that he's terrified of the old Hale house. He just  _knows_  the damn thing's haunted, and no matter how many times Jackson dares, double dares, and triple chicken dares him, Stiles always refuses to go near it. Now is no different, despite that this time, Jackson's daring him in front of the entire lacrosse team. He's waited until Coach left for the day, since not even Jackson's stupid enough to do this in front of a teacher, and Coach is surprisingly hard on the  _100% No Bullying_  stint the school's running.

Stiles refuses again, and Jackson sneers, calls him a chicken shit, and shoves him against his locker on the way out of the locker room. Stiles brushes himself off and refuses to acknowledge any of the others' pitying looks. They never help him or stop Jackson, so their pity means shit all at the end of the day. He slams his locker closed and shoulders his bag and leaves without looking back.

He's counting down the days to the end of the school year (fifteen weekdays left), when he can leave and never have to come back to Beacon Hills High. In fact, on the day he graduates, Stiles plans on packing up Roscoe with everything he owns and never coming back to Beacon Hills itself. A hellmouth could open up in the middle of town, and he just  _would not care_.

"Hey, Stiles. Any plans for tonight?" Erica asked, hurrying to catch up to him, her hair brushed back into a messy ponytail.

"Same as usual: nothing. What about you and Boyd?" he asked, glancing over at his best friend.

"Nothing," Erica said with a shrug, but he could see the blush tinting her cheeks.

"Yeah,  _right_. You two lovebirds have fun. Want me to wait with you until Boyd's finished work?"

"Yeah, all right," Erica said, nudging his shoulder with hers in thanks.

"Jump in, Catwoman," Stiles offered, opening the passenger door for her.

Erica grinned and slid onto the seat, waiting patiently as Stiles made his way around to the driver's seat. They made it to the ice rink about ten minutes later, and Boyd let them inside, smiling when Erica practically launched herself at him to hug and kiss him. Stiles rolled his eyes at their display, and turned around to lock the rink door again.

He felt a cold shiver run through his body and Stiles looked beyond the doors with a frown, trying to see what was wrong. He wasn't psychic, but Stiles sometimes got a feeling of cryptesthesia, and without any bidding, he would just  _know_  that something was going to happen. He was never wrong, but since he had yet to guess the lottery numbers, so as far as Stiles was concerned, it was little more than a useless sixth sense. Still, he usually paid attention to the feeling and made sure to keep an eye open for any abnormalities.

By the time Stiles left the ice rink an hour later, nothing had happened and he was feeling highly strung as he walked over to his Jeep. It was a stupid thing, to be reduced to an emotional mess over something that might not even happen, he told himself firmly. Stiles let out a harsh huff of breath, shook out his arms and legs, rolled his neck to crack it, and rolled his shoulders to crack his back as well. The feeling was still there, but his limbs felt a bit looser, so Stiles purposely ignored the feeling and drove home.

At least, that's what he had intended to do. Somehow, he had managed to let his concentration drift, and instead of turning left to go home, he turned right and had ended up here at the Hale house instead. Stiles' body was trembling and he was covered in goosebumps, and he hadn't even taken his freaking seat belt off yet.

From his car, Stiles stared out at the looming and decrepit burnt shell of a house, remembering when he'd heard the news that the house had been set ablaze. His father had called the babysitter, talking with her briefly on the phone about the fire before pressing a quick kiss to his head and running out to help the other police officers. Stiles hadn't wanted him to go, and as soon as his babysitter arrived, he had demanded that she explain where his father had gone and  _why_. Though he'd been young, he already understood loss better than most, and Stiles still remembered the wave of nausea he'd felt on being told the news that the whole family had died in the fire. He'd spent the rest of the night crying, and it was around then when he'd first felt his stirring of something more. There was something out there, waiting for him, watching, and though Stiles couldn't say how, he knew that it wasn't human.

Now, sitting in front of the Hale house, Stiles remembered every single time he'd felt that presence, and it felt even scarier with the setting sun and his lack of memory of willingly driving here. Despite that, he found that he couldn't bring himself to turn on his ignition and drive home. Instead, Stiles took off his seat belt. He opened the door and stepped outside, shivering in the rapidly cooling air. He remembered Jackson's earlier mocking jibes, daring him to go to the Hale house, just as he had time and time again. If Stiles didn't know how much Jackson hated him, he might've said the other boy actually  _cared_  whether he went to the old Hale house or not.

Stiles walked right up to the porch steps, his hands visibly shivering and it had nothing to do with the cold. That feeling was back, of something watching, something wrong, and he spun on his heel to look out into the forest where the feeling was coming from. There was a soft noise that could have been the wind in the trees, but Stiles knew better, especially after all of these years. He continued to look out at the forest, hands clenched by his sides to keep them from trembling, and as he watched, determined and pissed off, Stiles saw movement from the tree line. His heart leapt up into his throat, hammered wildly in fear, but he couldn't move. He couldn't even utter a single syllable, and Stiles could only stare as a shape made its way out of the forest. It was a wolf, four large paws padding against the ground and eyes glowing red as it stared right back at Stiles. A red-eyed wolf. A wolf in  _California_.

It didn't make any sense to his mind, but then the wolf leapt, and Stiles finally had enough control over his vocal chords to let out a scream of pure fear. The wolf was no longer a wolf, and now instead, a very naked man was standing in front of him. Stiles eyes widened as he stared at the naked man because he recognised the naked man. Derek Hale, who everyone had assumed had died in the fire since they couldn't find his body and according to the school records, both he and Laura had been home sick on the day of the fire. He was very obviously alive, and he was standing in front of Stiles, and oh yeah, did he mention that Derek was naked? Because he was very naked, and he didn't seem ashamed of it either.

"Done staring?" Derek asked.

Stiles gritted his teeth because  _fuck him;_  Derek was naked after just being a freaking wolf five minutes ago, so yes, he was allowed to stare! He said as much, and Derek smirked a bit, splaying his arms.

"Want me to do a spin so you can commit it all to memory, then?"

"Fuck you, Derek."

"Only if you ask nicely. Now, why've you brought me here?"

"What? Wait, what? I brought you here? Bull-fucking-shit. You've been following me for  _years!_ " Stiles said, only just realising how true it was.

Every single shiver he'd felt since the night of the Hale fire, somehow, Derek had been out there.  _What, as a guardian wolf or something? Was that even a thing? And if it was, he was the world's shittiest guardian wolf ever. Or was Derek just a creeper that watched him?_

" _You've_  been calling out to me for years," Derek replied with a snap. "I'm stuck here because of you, Zbigniew!"

"Well... Why the fuck haven't you been a human before now?" Stiles demanded, ignoring the fact that Derek knew his real name.

Derek rolled his eyes. "You really think it'd go down well with the authorities when I suddenly turned up in town? It was easier for everyone to think I was dead."

"Why  _now?_ " Stiles replied.

"You came here, you called," Derek said, shrugging.

"I didn't fucking call, and I didn't come here willingly. I just... I don't want to be here at all," Stiles muttered, and he wasn't just talking about the old Hale house.

"You and me both, Zbee," Derek muttered.

"Yeah, well, whatever I was doing to keep you here, I'm sorry. You can go now. Go wherever you want," Stiles said, waving a hand and hoping it would be enough to free Derek or whatever the fuck this was.

Derek snorted in response. "Not that easy, unfortunately. You have to get out of here before I can, and since you haven't been outside of Beacon County, I'm stuck here too."

Stiles blinked at the news, surprised and still weirded out at the fact that Derek was somehow tied to him. And he was  _still_  naked. Stiles muttered under his breath and pulled his lacrosse jumper off, throwing it the few metres to Derek. He caught it easily and raised an eyebrow at Stiles.

"Put it on, you idiot."

"You're the idiot; this isn't going to fit me, and it's not going to cover my dick either," Derek pointed out, glancing down, which had Stiles glancing down too.

_Fucking hell_ , he wasn't supposed to get horny over a complete stranger who was sassy as fuck and had been following him around for years. Although, somehow, the last part wasn't either of their faults, since Stiles had had no idea he was doing it, and Derek hadn't come forward to tell him to take a drive outside of the county's borders or something.

"What's been going on with you these last few weeks? Your scent's been all messed up," Derek muttered, pulling on Stiles' jumper on.

He was right, it barely fit him, the material stretched across his chest, and somehow, it managed to highlight the fact that he was still naked from the waist down.

"Nothing, just anxious to get the fuck out of here."

"I completely empathise," Derek drawled.

"Fuck off, I didn't do it intentionally," Stiles said with a scowl.

"Yeah, I know," Derek said, shrugging. "Was easier to blame someone else than face up to the fact that my entire family died in one night. My uncle was fucking a hunter, thinking to use her, and she killed our pack. Got away with it too, since I was too small and weak to track her down, and unable to leave the county."

Stiles wanted to say something, apologise, offer condolences (both about seven years too late), but nothing came and he sighed, silence falling between them. Then Stiles thought over Derek's words more, and he frowned slightly, looking over at him.

"Pack's important to wolves - werewolves - isn't it?"

Derek shrugged half-heartedly. "It's meant to make Alphas stronger, give them more control over their wolf, that sort of thing."

"And anyone can become a werewolf?"

"I have to bite them, the bite decides whether someone will live and thrive as a wolf, or will die as a human," Derek said slowly, as if he was trying to work out what Stiles was saying.

Stiles grinned and splayed his arms, as Derek had done earlier. "Say hello to your newest pack member."

Derek looked as though his brain had just rebooted suddenly, and stared at Stiles, mouth parted and bunny teeth on display. "What?"

"Pack member  _numero uno_ ; you bite me, make me a wolf, and we go hunt down the bitch that killed your family."

Derek blinked a few more times, still processing Stiles' request. Just as Stiles was going to make a huge argument - he was going to leave Beacon Hills anyway, their lives were obviously tied together in some way already, anything and everything to make him agree - Derek finally nodded.

"All right, I'll do it. The bite takes, we get out of here and train until you're safe and in control of your wolf," Derek said, not moving yet.

"Sure thing, big guy. How big does a pack need to be, anyway?" Stiles asked.

"Usually more than two wolves. If we're really going to hunt down the hunter that killed my family, then no more than five. It's hard to move in a group across state lines, and there are always hunters on the lookout for wolf packs."

"Great; I've got two people who want to get out as much as I do. Wait, what's epilepsy going to do to a werewolf?" Stiles asked.

"Nothing, hopefully; if the bite takes, then it would cure the epilepsy."

"Even better, Erica will definitely agree with that. Boyd'll go anywhere with her."

"What about the boy on your lacrosse team?"

"What, Jackson, douche-extraordinaire? He can go fuck himself with a cactus for all I care."

"Not him, the curly one. He smells just as desperate to leave as you do."

"Curly... Oh,  _Isaac?_  Yeah, all right. We'll set out a box with a scarf under it and kidnap him if we have to."

Isaac was one of the few lacrosse team members that Stiles actually didn't mind. He never stayed after the games, refused to change in front of the others, and usually left even before Coach had blown his farewell whistle. Stiles and Isaac were usually on the bench together (along with Greenberg, but that was more to do with Coach's intense dislike for the boy rather than his ability to play lacrosse), and he'd actually caught Isaac laughing at the snarky things he muttered under his breath about the other team's players.

"We're not kidnapping people for our pack, Zbee. That's not how pack dynamics work," Derek muttered.

" _Our_  pack, huh?" Stiles echoed, smirking when Derek blushed. "So, as I'm your first, does that mean I get special benefits and privileges?"

"Like what?" Derek asked warily.

"Oh, y'know, dental, optical, first choice to ride the Alpha's dick."

Derek's blush deepened, his gaze firm on Stiles' mouth as he licked his lips obscenely.

"First and only. Alphas mate for life. Betas and Omegas have more freedom in choosing their partners."

"Hmm. How about we see if I survive the bite before I ride your dick then?" Stiles suggested, smirking.

"We would've seen five minutes ago if you'd just stopped talking already," Derek muttered, eyes red, fangs elongated, and claws out as he strode forward to lift Stiles' shirt and bite his side, just below his ribs.

"That  _tickles!_  Warn a guy next time," Stiles complained.

Derek licked the blood from his mouth and nodded, then stepped back as Stiles slumped down onto the ground. Derek picked him up and carried him over to the Jeep, settling him in the backseat before shifting to a wolf and jumping in beside him.

"Good boy. I'm going to live, and we're gonna be awesome, and we'll have a pack, and we'll get revenge on the bitch that killed your... your non-people," Stiles mumbled, voice thick and slurred as his vision started to blur and he closed his eyes, body falling against Derek's wolf form.

Derek snuffled around Stiles' body, licking at the bloodied wound under his shirt, and hoping that he would survive. He settled his head against Stiles' lap and fell asleep eventually, ears twitching at the forest's various sounds.

...

"Hey, Stilinski! Heard your dad found you out at the old Hale house. Did you finally accept my dare, or did you sit there crying all night, you piece of chicken shit?" Jackson sneered at him in home room.

Stiles smirked, head tilted to the head slightly as he heard Derek's growl, even though he was inside of the forest surrounding the school grounds.

"Sure did, Jackson," he said, and Jackson scoffed in disbelief. "If you don't believe me, you can meet me and my friends out there tonight," Stiles said, eyes flashing gold and fangs sharp for a quick second.

Jackson's eyes widened, but he blinked quickly and dismissed it as a sudden trick of the light. "Bullshit, everyone knows that Reyes only hangs out with you out of pity. You don't even have  _one_  friend, Stilinski," he sneered, pushing past Stiles to get out of the classroom.

"Oh, Stiles has more than one friend," Isaac promised, blocking the doorway with Erica and Boyd on either side of him, the three of them growling and possessive of their friend and Alpha's mate.

Stiles grinned at the sight of his friends -  _his pack_  - and clapped Jackson on the back, revelling in his terrified heartbeat.

"Come on, Jackson, come out to the Hale house tonight.  _I double dare you._ "

...

The end.

Thanks for reading.


End file.
